


Stanford

by TammyRenH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Gen, Sam struggling in Stanford, Stanford, fight between John and Sam (but not physical), guidance counselor who actually guides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 02:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: Sam's dream has come true - he's a student at Stanford - full ride, hunting in his rear view mirror.  So why does he feel so lost and alienated ?Written for a prompt by roaringmice for 2019 Summer Gen





	Stanford

Sam never had Dean’s easy-going charm going for him, but when he was younger, he was able to make a few friends nonetheless at each new school he landed in. But every time he was forced to move, each time he had to say goodbye to a friend, or worse yet, was spirited away in the night and never got to say goodbye at all, took its toll and by the time he was a junior in High School, he had managed the fine art of being friendly without ever being friends with anyone. He never invited anyone to whatever dump they were living in at the moment, never went to their house for a sleepover, never bothered to learn anything about anyone beyond their names. He kept his head down, he did his work and he dreamed of a different life.

Eventually loneliness devolved into numbness. Sam even stopped fighting with his Dad so much, resigned to living a life he loathed. If it wasn’t for Dean, Sam wondered if he would just drift away,

And then he started his senior year in the small town of Wildwood at the school with the same name. There he met the guidance teacher. Ms. Miranda was two years out of graduate school and still in full “I am going to help you or kill both of us trying” mode, and the day Sam was called into her office was a huge turning point in his life.

“So,” Ms. Miranda said after shuffling a file full of papers that Sam assumed were all about him. “Tell me what you want to do after graduation.”

Sam shifted his legs further away from the chair he was sitting in. He had hit another growth spurt during the summer and now even sitting felt awkward and wrong – nowhere to comfortably put his legs – nothing was made for a boy six feel two and growing.

“Come now, Sam. You must have something in mind.” Ms. Miranda cajoled. “I’ve been looking at your transcripts, your ACT scores, you are a bright kid, you must have plans for a bright future. “

  
A bright future chasing down monsters and never living in the same place for more than two months. A bright future living a life he had no desire to live. A bright future of fights with Dad and giving in to Dean’s desperate attempts to make peace. 

“You’re not leaving here until we have a plan for after you graduate.” Said Ms. Miranda with surprising forcefulness for someone so tiny. “Do you see college in your future?”

Sam snorted; he couldn’t help it. Colleges cost money, lots of it, and money was something he had never had. Hell, there wasn’t even a student loan company in the world who would loan him money, what with their transient lifestyle and the fact his Dad would rather saw off his right arm than sign for a loan. “Sure, and also a trip to the moon on a flying carpet.”

“Well, I can’t help with the flying carpet, but I can help get you into a good college. We have to make a plan though; time is running out.” Ms. Miranda grabbed a pen and tore a page out of a notebook. Sam realized she was serious about this.

“Ms Miranda – I appreciate this, I really do but there’s no way in hel- heck I can financially finagle my way into college, even if I found one that would accept me.”

“Believe it or not, must of us don’t have the money to pay for college. We get scholarships, grants, loans. With your grades and your test scores, you could easily land scholarships, good ones. You’ll need to start off by picking schools to apply to, and I know I am not supposed to show favoritism, but my alma mater is the best one there is. And it would be perfect for you.”

Sam felt hope rising in spite of his desperate attempts to push it down. “And that is?”

“Stanford. And as it so happens, I know some people on the admission’s board. I mean, you will still have to prove you meet their exacting standards, but any foot in the door am I right?”

“But my transcript – “ Sam started. He couldn’t hope and have it crushed. He wouldn’t survive that.

“Yes, it’s something. But think what a great essay you will be able to write for your applications. You’ve been able to not only adapt to the constant upheaval, but to excel. “ Ms. Miranda seemed to take Sam’s stunned silence as his acceptance of her plan. “Now as excellent as your transcript is, you are a little short on extracurricular activities. My advice to you is to join as many clubs as you can, pick a variety – future leaders, one of the language clubs, maybe something civics related, definitely try out for the debate team. Also, your ACT scores are good, but I think you can do better. I have a study guide I’ll let you take home; we have a test scheduled here in 2 months. And it’s never too early to get started on getting letters of recommendation. Here are some phone numbers – the mayor, the state representative for Congress, a few business leaders in town, and of course the superintendent of the school. Make appointments with them, introduce yourself, tell them a bit about yourself, I think they’ll realize pretty quickly what a special and unique person you are.”

Sam sat, mouth agape, his long legs pulled under the chair, totally forgetting to feel awkward. “Do you really think - ?” Sam asked. He didn’t even know how to finish the sentence.

“I do definitely think. Are you going to be able to finish your senior year here? I hope so, we need to meet at least once a month to discuss your progress. I’ll have a few college applications and some scholarship opportunities for you on our next visit. Stanford is the best.“ Ms. Miranda said with a wink. “But I guess it won’t hurt for you to give other colleges a chance to land you.”

College. A life free of monsters and drills and leaving one shit hole in the middle of the night to be driven to another one. A way out of the life he hated.

He didn’t care what it took, he wasn’t leaving Wildwood until he had that diploma in one hand and his acceptance letter to whatever college would pay for him to go in the other.

“Thank you, Ms. Miranda.” Sam said sincerely as he gathered up his things and prepared to leave the counselor’s office. He felt fifty tons lighter then when he entered. “I mean – just thank you.”

A few weeks later, Sam was coming up with excuse after excuse about why he had to stay after school, what he was doing with his free time. He couldn’t tell Dad the truth, he would know something was up. He had club meetings every day after school, sometimes two of them. He was volunteering at the local shelter and had even been invited to be a member of the mayor’s teen council (he had channeled Dean during his meeting with the mayor, dripping charm and oozing confidence and it had worked). Sam could tell Dad was getting tired of Sam’s excuses, and even more tired of this town.

He went to Dean late one night, right before bed. “Dean, I need a favor.”

“No, I can’t tell you why I get all the girls and they won’t even give you the time of day. There are some things you have to figure out all on your own little brother.”

“Jerk.” Sam sat down next to Dean. Dean’s gun was on the other side of them, lying on a clean cloth. Dean has just cleaned and reassembled it. Dean performed this task once a week or so, Sam cleaned his gun when his Dad made him. Actually, most of the time it was Dean who cleaned it. 

“So, what can I do you for?” Dean asked. “You outgrow all your clothes again beanstalk?”

Sam actually had a little, his pants now being an inch or two too short, but he just blushed and bumped his leg against Dean’s. “This is serious Dean. I know Dad is fixing to pack up and move on I want to stay here when you two go.”

Dean gave a low whistle. “You know Dad will never go for that.”

“Not if I ask, but he might if you do.” Sam looked over at his brother. “Please, I just want one year where I am not constantly the new guy. I like this school, it’s a good school. And the kids are all right too. I can still do the research for you and Dad; I almost never go on the actual hunts anyway. Please Dean, it would mean so much for me to get to stay.”

“So, this is about a girl, right?” Dean teased

“No, there’s no girl.” Sam could feel himself blushing a little bit. it’s about me. You know this is what I always wanted. To stay in one place long enough to feel like I belong, to feel a tiny bit like normal.”

“Well you do seem a little less mopey than you’ve been.” Dean looked at Sam appraisingly and then knock their shoulders together hard enough that Sam almost toppled off the bed. “It is still a bad idea. We three need to stick together. You know what’s out there.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” Sam crossed his heart, dorky as that action was. “C’mon Dean. This is my one and only chance to have this.”

Dean sighed. “Sam, I understand what you are saying but Dad – “

“Could you just ask him? I know you can put it to him in a way he’d understand, if I tried we would just end up yelling at each other. I know you hate it when we fight.” 

Dean sighed again, more dramatically this time, and patted Sam on the leg, a reflective soothing gesture . Sam knew he almost had him.

He leaned into Dean’s shoulder. “Please Dean?”

Dean looked at him and then groaned. “Put the damn puppy eyes away. I’ll ask. But Sam, I wouldn’t get your hopes up if I were – “

Sam threw his arms around Dean. “Thank you, thank you. I know you can get him to say yes. I know you can.”

The next night, Sam stayed in his room studying when he heard his father’s voice raised in anger. He clenched his chemistry book tighter at the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. He bit his lower lip until it was bleeding as he read the same paragraph over and over again, waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, a tired Dean entered the room. 

Sam stood up, the chemistry book falling carelessly to the floor. “Well?”

Dean held his hands out wide. His smile seemed a bit forced, but the sparkle in his eyes definitely wasn’t. “Who is the most awesome brother ever?”

Sam gave him a quick hug and responded with barely contained glee. “You. Absolutely you.”

For the two weeks until Dean and Dad left, Sam was the model son. He obeyed every order his Dad barked at him, he threw himself into training, he took care of his weapons, he even found them their next case, all while keeping up with his schoolwork and his after-school activities. 

“Got everything you need?” Dean asked, duffel bag in hand. Dad had already blown town in his truck a few hours earlier, with a scowl and “I still think this is a bad idea” on his way out. Dean had held back, coming up with one reason after another to stay a while longer. He’d have to leave soon though; Dad had already called his phone once and asked where the hell he was.

“Yeah worry wart, I’m good.” Sam teased. “You know this isn’t the first time I’ve been left alone right? Or even the fiftieth?”

“True, but usually we aren’t so far away.” Dad and Dean were headed to a small town in Florida where something was attacking people in the marshes. “I mean what am I going to do on the ride there without my nerdy brother going on and on about things nobody else could possibly care about?”

“Yeah, like you are really going to miss me complaining about your music and how cramped my legs are in the car.” Sam gave Dean a bit of a push toward the door. “You know, I can’t miss you if you never actually leave.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean pulled out his wallet and handed Sam fifty dollars. “The rent is paid for the next two months, utilities are included here so your good for a bit. Should be enough food in the refrigerator to feed even your gigantic stomach for a week or so anyway. I’ll try to send you some more money when I can.”

“Dean – you don’t have to – “ Sam knew Dean didn’t want him to stay. Sam knew Dean wanted him on the road. And the fact that Dean was still going to make it easier for Sam, even when it was the opposite of what Dean wanted, made the pang Sam felt about not telling him the real reason he didn’t want to leave the school in Wildwood that much sharper. 

“Yeah, well, take care squirt.” 

“You can’t keep calling me that when I am taller than – “ The door slammed, and Dean was gone. Sam could hear Dean’s car’s engine roar to life, loud as always, and then he was alone.

Truly alone.

Not alone as in we are in a hunt sixty miles away and will be back on Sunday. Not alone as in I’m giving you a few days to finish this semester and then we’ll swing by and pick you up. Truly alone.

But between classes, extracurricular activities, a weekend job bagging groceries at the local grocery store, and sticking somewhat to the training schedule Dad had left him, Sam didn’t have a lot fo time to be lonely. Every night he went to bed totally exhausted. He had never been happier.

The first time Sam received money in the mail, it wasn’t from Dean, it was from Dad. He called Dad that night, the conversation was awkward but when it ended, Sam realized that it wasn’t only Dean’s heart that he would be breaking by leaving for college.

Still, every month he met with Ms. Miranda and every moment he was awake was spent thinking, hoping, dreaming about college.

At Christmas Dean came back solo. Dad was working on a cursed object case in Michigan, but he had told Dean he could handle it by himself, so Dean had come to see Sam. He came bringing money he had won at bars, a new pair of combat boots for Sam (well new to him, he could tell they were 2nd hand but still in good shape) and tickets to the local theatre where they watched the latest Star Trek movie and gorged themselves on popcorn and sodas.

And so many times Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean he applied at Stanford, was just waiting to hear back and each time he said nothing. Dean was happy, staying up late, telling Sam about how he had saved a waitress from a restless spirit and how thoroughly the waitress had thanked him. Sam hadn’t realized how much he missed his brother until he was there, taking up so much space and time. and then Dean joined Dad for a water sprite hunt in Oregon and Sam was alone again to wait to hear about Stanford.

It was Ms. Miranda who told him, before his acceptance letter even arrived. Full ride.

Dad and Dean were both at his graduation ceremony. They had packed Sam’s meager belongings before the ceremony started, Dad wanted to skip it and head out – Bobby had some books he wanted to show Dad and Dad wanted to have been there like yesterday. Dad was obviously distracted through the whole thing, Dean whistled so loudly when Sam’s name was called that every head in the auditorium turned their way and Sam’s valedictorian speech was both safe and trite and then they were on their way

And Sam began his countdown .

52 days until he was due at Stanford.

33 days until he was due at Stanford.

On his birthday, Dean gave him $200. Sam hit the thrift stores, buying things at bottom bargain prices that he could use at school and giving the impression he had spent all the money on clothes, shoes and accessories for his phone. He had bought all that. But he also used it to purchase a one-way ticket to Palo Alto. 

18 days. Maybe he should say something.

8 days and Dad was talking about moving again. Since the ticket was from the small town they were staying in Missouri to California, Sam didn’t want to move Thank heavens Dean found a haunting near by and they stayed put.

3 days. The guilt inside him was a living breathing thing now. Every time Dean smiled at him, every time Dean mentioned him and Sam going on hunts alone, every time Dean made a joke about how Sam was always shot gun, Sam’s chest would tighten, and he would have to fight to remember to breathe.

  
2 hours before it was time to leave.

Sam packed his backpack; it was probably a blessing that everything he owned fit into it. He put his gun under Dean’s pillow, joining Dean’s there. He left his knife in Dean’s duffle bag. He walked into the kitchen where Dean and Dad were eating ham sandwiches. Dad was already on his third beer, judging by the empties on the table. Not good.

Dean jumped up to make Sam a sandwich, but Sam told him no need. Dad ordered him to be ready to head out bright and earlier the next day, headed to Texas in the morning. Sam said he wouldn’t be there.

The fight escalated quickly. Dean attempted to placate and arbitrate, but there was no meeting in the middle on this one. Sam was going to go, no matter what. And Dad was determined that his ungrateful, selfish son was going to stay. Dean stood on the sidelines, no longer saying anything, his shoulders tense and his eyes wet as the fight hit its climax.

The fight spilled into the road, ringing out into the night. Dad told him if he left to never come back. Sam said that was fine with him. And that was that. Dad slammed back into the house. Silence now where there had been shouting. Sam was too ashamed to face his brother, so he turned around and walked down the street, headed to the bus station. it started to rain. Of course, it did.

However, he wasn’t shocked at all when five minutes later, Baby’s loud engine sidled beside him.

They didn’t talk at all on the way to the bus station. They sat in the station silently side by side waiting for Sam’s bus to arrive. When the bus began boarding, Dean pulled a book out of his jacket. Sam’s favorite book, Sam’s childhood in its pages. Dean shrugged; thought you might miss this. Dean hugged him tightly and pressed a couple of twenties in Sam’s hand and stood there, devastation is his eyes but no recrimination on his lips. as Sam headed to the bus.

Sam got one more glimpse of Dean, standing in the rain, watching as the bus pulled out.

That was two weeks ago.

Sam woke up, as he did every morning, with the sound of the fight ringing in his ears.

Sam wished he could go back to feeling numb.

He woke up, as he did every morning, halfway expecting to see Dean sleeping in the bed next to his. Instead there was Wayne, lying on his back, mouth open, looking like a fish washed up on the shore. Wayne, as far as Sam could tell, was majoring in getting laid and beer bongs. Sam figured he’d be gone by the end of the semester, in the meantime the room always smelled like sex and stale food. Sam spent as much time as he could elsewhere.

Sam took a quick shower, and wondered if Dean was thinking about him, if Dad would ever not hate him

He walked to the cafeteria, not making eye contact with anyone he encountered on the way. Head down, shoulders slumped. Too much of him to be able to hide the way he needed to.

He had thought he’d come here, find a community, a place he could finally belong.

Maybe there wasn’t anywhere he really belonged.

Maybe by breaking the hearts of the only two people who had ever loved him, he had lost the ability to connect with anyone. Maybe this was the punishment he deserved, to be always alone.

He piled his breakfast tray full of food, courtesy of his scholarship, and found a deserted table in the back of the cafeteria. He opened a book and pretended to study. He was six chapters ahead in almost all of his classes, there was nothing he needed to read.

He was taking all basics this semester because he hadn’t decided on a major. It was hard to plan a future when you were living in a fog.

He was early for class, as he had been every day for every class. He was able to find a seat in the back this way, a place to hide. He got out his book, pretending again to read the chapter they were currently covering .

A petite, blond woman sat next to him. As he looked over, she offered a small, shy upward quirk to her lips. Sam didn’t smile back. She looked like a nice girl who deserved someone nice. Not someone who would destroy a family. Not someone like him.

Another class then lunch. Two more classes then library. Sam spent a lot of time in the library. It beat spending time in that dorm room with Wayne and whoever he was banging at the moment.

  
Supper. Library. A walk around campus. 

A guy with short light brown hair and a swagger brushed by him on the way to the dorm. Not Dean. It would never be Dean.

In bed by eleven. Wayne was blissfully absent.

And then the alarm was buzzing again.

Is this what it felt like to get everything you ever dreamed of? 

Breakfast, class, library, class, lunch eaten on a bench in the commons.

He was still sitting at the bench when he pulled out the book Dean hand handed him, a sudden need for comfort by touching something familiar. He had gotten the book when he was 8, bought for 50 cents at a flea market. He had never been able to part with it, even through all of Dad’s scowls and Dean’s teasing. Pages so worn they were threatening to disintegrate. <b>Tales From the Arabian Nights </b>. The book had travelled with him across so many states, had been a comforting fixture in his life for so many years. A slip of paper fell out.

Written in unmistakably Dean’s printed block letter style. I’m proud of you.

Sam turned it over, nothing else. He couldn’t remember the last time he had read this book. Had Dean slipped it in after Sam’s graduation? When he grabbed the book on his way to drive Sam to the bus station?

I’m proud of you.

Sam quickly wiped the tears from his eyes.

It probably wasn’t. He certainly didn’t deserve it. But it felt like forgiveness.

He carefully placed the slip of paper back in the book. Book back in the backpack. Stood up. Met the eye of the student passing by. The student smiled at him. Sam smiled back, tentative but there.

I’m proud of you.

Sam squared his shoulders and headed toward class.

A voice yelling his name.

“Hey Sam, wait up.” Startled, Sam stopped walking. A student with dark hair approached him, Sam remembered him from his Algebra class. “It’s Sam, right?” The man asked.

Sam nodded.

“Tyson Brady, but everyone calls me Brady.” Brady held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sam took it. As he shook the hand, he realized this was his first actual human contact since Dean had hugged him at the bus station. “So now that we’ve been formally introduced, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come to a party.”

Sam looked around. Brady seemed to be talking to him. He looked back at Brady confused.

“I don’t – “

“C’mon, you haven’t experienced parties until you’ve been to one of ours.” Somehow Sam was walking again, and Brady was walking beside him . “At the party we had last week, I drank two whole beers.”

Sam couldn’t help his smile. “And then what?”

“Then I fell asleep on the couch, naturally.” Brady replied. He was a good-looking guy, had an earnest look about him, was friendly without being pushy. Sam could feel himself beginning to relax. “I mean we are a group of science and pre-Med majors mostly; you can imagine the wild times we have.”

“I can just.” Sam replied. “You guys might be too wild for me.”

Brady stopped walking as they neared the steps of one of the buildings. “This is me. So, I should confess that most of our partying actually consists of us studying together. I’ve seen you studying in the library and I thought – we really are a good group of people. We take turns meeting in dorm rooms because we are just way too rowdy for the library.”

Sam smiled again. “I bet.”

He could join this study group, make friends There was no one stopping him but him.

I’m proud of you.

He could join a fraternity and be a party boy. He could ask the pretty blond girl for a date. He could be like Wayne, a new girl every night.

He could stay in his isolated bubble, or he could turn his college experience into anything he wanted it to be.

He had choices. He had almost unlimited choices. For the first time in his life, he was truly free to make his own decisions, lead the life he wanted to lead.

It was a terrifying thought.

It was an exhilarating thought.

“So, where and where tonight?” Sam asked. “I have to warn you though; nobody can party like I can.”

Two weeks later the alarm woke Sam up.

He didn’t bother looking at the bed next to his. Wayne wasn’t there. He hadn’t even made it through the first semester.

In the cafeteria, he barely had a chance to grab his food when he could hear his name being yelled,

He joined them at the table, Michael scooting over to make room for him. Brady stealing some of his bacon. Becky was trying to explain her research paper over the rest of the group talking and laughing. Sam caught the eye of the pretty blond sitting at a table across from him and smiled at her.

He missed Dad more than he thought he would. He hoped someday Dad could forgive him, maybe even love him again.

He missed Dean like a sore tooth, pain flaring in unexpecting and excruciating ways.

But this – this was what he had always dreamed of. This is what he always wanted.

  
This was home.


End file.
